Outside Looking in
by Ellen Brand
Summary: Casper High's new psychiatrist has some interesting interviews ahead of him.
1. Danny

_Disclaimer: Ellen: I wish I owned Danny Phantom! Desiree: So you have wished it, so shall it be done! Poof. Ellen finds herself to be Butch Hartman. Ellen: This... is not good._

_Author's Note: This is Cade. Cade waves at audience Cade is an OC, but please hold your tomatoes until the end. Cade is also a psychiatrist. ... Danny Phantom characters, also hold your tomatoes until the end! I'm a big fan of "outside looking in" stories, where a character who knows little to nothing about the secrets of the major characters gives his or her opinion. I'm also a big fan of psychoanalysis. And thirdly, after the mess Penelope Spectra made out of Casper High's freshman class, somebody needs to do some damage control on the behalf of the psychiatric profession! Oh... and just for fun, Cade's last name, Maboroshi? Means "Phantom" in Japanese. Heh heh heh._

**Outside Looking In.**

Session 1: Daniel Fenton

Age: 14

"Just so you know, Danny, you're not in any trouble. I'm meeting with everyone in the freshman class over the next few days, just to get a feel for the situation here. I realize you all had a very bad experience with Dr. Spectra recently, and I want to make it clear that I'm here to help you, not to play power games with your heads. So this meeting isn't to talk about anything in particular. It's just a chance to get us started on knowing each other."

No answer from the boy in the guest chair, simply a less-than-convinced blue stare. Cade Maboroshi stifled a sigh. This was about the response he'd gotten from almost every other student he'd met with so far, though none of them had locked down quite as quickly and professionally as Danny Fenton. It wasn't surprising, given the fact that the last school psychiatrist had been a catchphrase-spouting quack, more interested in manipulation and playing head games than in actually helping anyone deal with the trials of adolescence. Even so... it was a bit disheartening to be instantly distrusted by more than seven hundred people at once.

The short file he'd gotten on Danny Fenton had labeled him as withdrawn, distracted, and a habitual trouble-maker. _More like habitual target,_ Cade snorted, taking in Danny's slim build and wary posture. The football team has probably introduced him to the inside of more than one locker. _Of course, football brings in money, so the school's golden sociopaths can do no wrong. Which means kids like Danny get the blame._

Odd, though... Fenton's first response upon entering his office had been to check the position of the windows, doors, and --strangely enough-- the ventilation duct. The assessment had been quick and professional, the action of someone used to having to make a quick exit from a situation gone bad. He didn't think the level of bullying was up to threats of permanent injury here, and there were no indications of any type of trouble in the home. So why was a fourteen year old boy sizing up the room like a member of the SWAT team?

And then there was his silence. Teenagers, generally, HATED silence. Give them a quiet stretch, and they'd babble on about nothing to fill it. The silent treatment was the worst punishment a teenage clique could inflict. Danny, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to spend the next fifteen minutes just exchanging stares. Okay... time to try a different angle.

"You know, the legal definition of assault in this state is any unwanted physical contact consistent with the attempt or desire to do physical harm."

THAT got a reaction. Blue eyes blinked, startled. "WHAT?"

"Just what I said. So, grabbing a kid and shoving him in a locker... or in a trash can, or just giving him a few pretty bruises after school... legally, that's assault, and the victim can press charges."

"You're kidding." A speculative gleam crept into Fenton's eyes, along with the beginning hint of a smile.

"Nope. Absolute truth. Of course, getting it to go to trial is a long and messy process, especially when everyone involved is underage, but it IS still criminal."

Danny seemed to file that away, expression returning to its original wary state. "So... what?"

"So, I'm not here to spy on you, or break down your self-esteem, or try and 'fix' you so that you behave like some cookie-cutter ideal of the perfect kid. I'm here to help you deal with things. I realize you don't have a lot of reason to trust psychiatrists after what happened with Dr. Spectra. I hope I can change that, but if I can't, I can't. You don't HAVE to talk to me. Whatever Mr. Lancer might tell you. If you want to walk out that door right now, you're more than welcome to. But... and this is the part where I'm gonna act like a grown-up-- let me give you a little unsolicited advice." Danny rolled his eyes, but was obviously still listening.

"Human beings are extremely social animals. Even loners don't do well completely cut off from human contact. We developed networking skills because we need them. Admittedly, high school is like a warped version of every human social instinct in existence, but... my point is that you don't have to talk to me, but you DO need to talk to someone. Someone you trust. Keeping all your problems to yourself is a quick recipe for burnout. Your friends may not have all the answers, but it DOES help just to have somebody else listen."

Danny rose to his feet, nodding thoughtfully. "That... actually does make sense. Are we done here?"

Cade looked at the clock. "Yeah, I think so. Hold on a sec, I'll write you out a hall pass so you can get back to your next class. Remember, if you ever need to talk, or even just get a question answered, my door is always open. "

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," the teen shrugged, noncommittal. Then, grabbing the pass, he was gone.

_Okay... that was weird._ Whatever Danny Fenton's problems were, he was willing to bet they were a lot bigger and more complicated than the general woes of a high school student. Cade suddenly had a feeling that his job was going to be a lot more interesting than he'd thought.


	2. Sam

_Disclaimer: Butch Hartman, not me... oh, you read the last chapter, right?_

Session 2: Samantha Manson

Age 14

Goth. Environmentalist. "Ultra-recyclo-vegetarian," whatever that meant. Even without the little file, Cade would have guessed that Sam liked challenging labels and preconceptions everywhere she went. Even the labels she ascribed to. He had a feeling, for instance, that the hair color was natural-- either that, or a very, very good dye, since the hair had the healthy blue sheen that most Goths didn't bother with. Violet eyes scanned his office with a certain cynical wariness, but also a level of interest he'd never seen a Goth- or a teenager- willing to admit before.

And like another of his interviewees, she seemed more than content to wait out their session in comfortable silence. Which meant he got the first shot.

"So, did Danny tell you anything in particular about our session?

A black eyebrow arched. "If you get doctor-patient confidentiality, I do too."

Cade chuckled. "Point acknowledged, Ms. Manson. Seriously, though, that is what this is about, isn't it? My notes indicate you only had one session with Ms. Spectra, not long before she disappeared... the real reason you don't trust me is because of what she did to Danny."

"She did the same thing to everyone else in the school," Sam responded, arms folded over her chest. "Tucker and I just got off lucky."

"Mmm. Look, Sam, I don't know the whole story of what Spectra did, to Danny, to you, or to anybody else. I probably never will, because I know none of you are going to want to talk about it. If someone had hurt me as badly as this looks, I wouldn't want to talk about it either, especially not to someone who was in the same position, and a total stranger to boot. And I won't deny that there are people in the psychiatric profession who are like Spectra, who enjoy manipulating and twisting people for their own ends. But I'm not one of them. I got into this job to help people, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm NOT here to strong-arm any of you on behalf of the administration. And I will never, EVER ask you to betray anything a friend has told you. Especially Danny."

Sam's expression only betrayed her shock for a moment before she returned to her typical emotionless mask. "Why do you keep coming back to Danny? If this is about that rumor going around the school that we're a couple, I can tell you now, it's WAY off."

"No, it has nothing to do with that. I watch people, Sam. It's my job. And the way you and Tucker both protect Danny is pretty obvious. He's... fragile, isn't he? On some level that doesn't usually apply... he's been hurt before, and he's still healing. And you refuse to let anybody hurt him again."

Seeing he'd struck a nerve, Cade continued. "I want to help with that. And if that means sitting on my curiosity and not asking questions... I can do that. I WILL do that. I'm here for you to talk to, about anything you need. When the pressure gets to be too much, you can come to me and vent and know it will never go beyond these walls. But I'm promising you now, I WILL NOT PRY. Despite what some people will tell you, you're allowed to have secrets. I just want to help you deal with them. I don't have to know what they are."

For a second, the girl seemed to be ready to say something in response, but the ringing of the bell cut off anything she might have replied. Regaining her composure, Sam stood, smoothing out her skirt.

"Thanks, Dr. Maboroshi... I've gotta go. Danny and Tucker will be waiting for me to walk home with them." Halfway out the door, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "But... I'll keep what you said in mind."

Then she was gone.


	3. Interlude: Mr Lancer

_Disclaimer: Cut and paste denial of ownership and credit to Butch Hartman here._

Interlude

Mr. Lancer

"Go easy on that coffee, Ron. You never know how long it's been there."

Looking up from his mug, Mr. Lancer sighed. "Long enough to achieve a colloidal consistency, at the very least."

Cade shook his head, retrieving a bottle of cola from the lounge's refrigerator instead. "Do I even want to KNOW why you're drinking something that's in a transitory form?"

"I'm not drinking it, I'm staring at it moodily. I'm not suicidal yet."

"Ah." Slipping into the seat across the table, Cade studied the older man. "You know, Ron, I'm not just here for the students. If you want to talk, I'll listen, and I promise not to tell the principal you're not toeing the party line."

Lancer snorted. "It's that obvious?" he asked, using a tea spoon to poke the semi-solid in his mug. Then he sighed. "I just got back from a meeting with her and the school board, "strongly suggesting" I reconsider my decision to issue failing grades to several members of the football team."

"What class is this in, anyway? You're always in a different one every time I look."

"Yes, apparently the vice-principal position translates to 'short-notice substitute.' Who knew?" He shrugged. "It's the English class. I can overlook some of their substandard efforts, but when they don't even bother to turn the assignment in, I reach my limit. Oliver Twist, who in their right mind lets a bunch of freshmen get away with simply skipping a major term paper?"

"The school board, apparently, at least if said freshmen are the key to pumping money into school coffers," Cade replied, sipping his cola.

"Indeed. The bullying seems to have gone down somewhat-- I'm assuming you gave your little speech on legal definitions to a wide audience?"

A feral smile crossed the psychiatrist's face. "Managed to slip it into a few of my interviews, yeah. Guess somebody on the team's smart enough to realize that even their golden status won't keep the law off their backs if one of the 'losers' finally gets up the guts to press charges."

"Good. I'm rather sick of having to turn my back as certain troublemakers get off scot-free." The balding man added a bit of creamer to his coffee, which, Cade noted, did seem to move it closer to a liquid state.

"Must be tough. You can't nail the football team, because the board will have a fit. You can't let the other kids involved walk, because that sets a precedent."

"And as a result, most of the student body considers me a cross between Colonel Klink and Attilla the Hun, yes."

Cade raised an eyebrow. "Did you just actually make a cultural reference that DIDN'T involve literature? I'm impressed." Then he sobered.

"Ron, the students don't like or trust you because you're a teacher, pure and simple. No teenager trusts authority figures; they figure we have no idea what they're going through. And to some extent, they're right. We don't really remember what high school was like; nobody can remember that far back with perfect recall. That's probably the reason we're still sane."

"I'm pretty sure my job used to involve teaching, not politics."

"Ennnh, wrong answer, doc. EVERYTHING is politics. Politics is just the science of human interaction. And if you wanted to TEACH, you should have gotten a job with a college. American public schools are twelve years of glorified babysitting, with two years in there for cramming for the SAT's. School's just a place to keep the kids for six hours a day while their parents are at work."

Lancer snorted. "You're not cynical, are you?"

"No more than the students."

"It just... so many of them have POTENTIAL... and they waste it playing stupid games of popularity and one-upmanship, and heaven forbid any of them possibly try and EXCELL at anything..."

Another sip of cola. "Are you familiar with the bucket of crabs theory?"

The other man took a cautious sip of his coffee, winced, and continued to add creamer. "Of course. Crabs trying to get out of a bucket will pull down the crabs that get ahead in their efforts to get out. You think that applies here?"

"Tear down everybody else to make yourself feel good. The nail that sticks up gets hammered down. Yeah, sounds like a good metaphor for high school to me. No wonder most of the kids are just keeping their heads down and waiting for graduation."

"And don't forget pulling stupid stunts for absolutely no reason."

The psychiatrist shook his head. "Ron, everybody does things for a reason. Even if it's a dumb reason like 'I thought it would be funny' or 'I was trying to get that hot babe's attention.' ...Actually, between hormones and alcohol, you can probably explain ninety percent of the stupidity performed by the human race."

Lancer sighed, standing up. "Well... thanks. I've got a few more papers to go grade, and then I'm off to get a few grinning idiots kicked off the football team." Crossing to the sink, he poured the muddy, still mostly-gelatinous contents of his coffee mug down the drain.

"Dash Baxter?" Cade asked casually.

"Actually, Mr. Baxter is not one of them. His grades are usually passing, though unremarkably so. And he seems to view Mr. Fenton's recent A as a challenge of some sort... I've actually been getting some half-decent work out of the two of them. It will be interesting to see if that will continue." With a smirk, Lancer set his empty mug on the drain board and headed out the door.


	4. Tucker

_Disclaimer: ... Butch Hartman. Not me. You know this already..._

Session 3: Tucker Foley

Age 14

_Well, you'd been complaining none of the kids were talking,_ Cade told himself wryly. _Textbook case of "Be careful what you wish for," isn't it?_ Unlike his two best friends, Tucker Foley had no trouble talking. As a matter of fact, he hadn't shut up since he'd first sat down in the chair reserved for students. Not that he'd actually SAID anything... his monologue had mostly focused around himself, his inability to get a date, and the absolutely KILLER PDA he'd been eyeing at the local Best Buy. All in all, he was giving the impression of having all the depth of a parking lot puddle.

"Okay, Tucker, I'm impressed," the psychiatrist announced, taking advantage of the boy's next pause for breath. "That is officially the best line of bull I've heard since college English."

Green eyes blinked at him innocently. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you've been stringing me along since you walked in here. I'm not as dumb as I look, you know. If you were really as two-dimensional as you've been acting, Sam wouldn't be caught dead within a hundred miles of you. Not to mention that I've read your file, and the constant refrain in there is that you'd be one of the best students if you'd simply 'pay attention and put some effort into things.'"

Tucker grinned. "Ahh, but why would I want to? Being a good student doesn't get you any slack, not even from the teachers. They just pile more work onto you, and Lancer looks even harder at you to find out how you're cheating. And the other kids... man, I'm techno-geek as it is. If I were a nerd, I'd never see the OUTSIDE of my locker."

One eyebrow raised, Cade propped his chin on his hand. "You DO know high school doesn't last forever."

"Counting on it. I'll bring my grades up junior year, ace the SAT's... I know a few scholarships I can apply for, and I've already got a line on an internship closer to graduation. I might have to go to a small, state school, but I'll get into one, somewhere."

The older man nodded approvingly. "That's actually a pretty good plan. I'm not a career counselor, but it sounds workable to me. So you're planning on just surviving the next four years without making an impression?"

"Dude, I'm at the bottom of the ladder here. The only impression I'll leave on my school years is from getting slammed into walls by the football team. But hey, in twenty years, they'll be marking time 'til retirement, and I'll be on my newest IPO. Besides, I've got a life. It just doesn't have much to do with school."

"I can tell. No clubs, no sports... what DO you do after school, anyway?"

Tucker's body tensed slightly, and the psychiatrist suppressed a smile. Tucker was quite good at misdirection, but Cade still knew a tap-dance when he saw one. There was a secret being kept here, and for three teenagers to be stonewalling him, and doing it this well, it must be something big.

And it did, definitely, focus on Danny Fenton. Secrets, he was guessing, weren't something Tucker was generally comfortable with. If the problem had been his, the boy would probably have talked it out with his parents by now, not just his two best friends. And the fact that he seemed so defensive...

_He's AFRAID,_ Cade realized, only half-listening to the litany of "geek pursuits" that the teen across from him was spinning for him. _All three of them are. Whatever's going on, they're terrified of letting anyone into it._ Which indicated that embarrassment wasn't the highest on their list of worries, should their secret be exposed.

What in the world could have consequences dire enough to get through the usual teenager's belief in their own indestructibility? And whatever it was... why couldn't the three of them walk away?

"Dr. Maboroshi?" Cade was jolted out of his thoughts by the note of curiosity in Tucker's voice. From the sound of it, he'd probably missed at least two cues to respond. He forced a smile.

"Sorry, Tucker. Apparently my brain decided to take a vacation all of a sudden." Looking at the clock, he frowned. "And we're now out of time. Let me get you a hall pass... and Tucker? I'll tell you want I told Danny and Sam... if you need to talk, my door is always open. No questions asked."

Taking the hall pass, the boy gave him a long, unreadable look, then shrugged and dashed out the door.


	5. Jazz

Disclaimer: I am not Butch Hartman. I don't own Danny. I'm not rich. WAHHHHH!

Session 4: Jazzmine Fenton

Age 16

"Wow, THIS is a library," Jazz commented, looking at the overstuffed bookshelf that occupied the corner of the office.

Cade chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment... but you should see my apartment. The books take up more space than a roommate."

"But do they cover half the rent?" the redhead replied, grinning.

"I wish. You know, you're welcome to borrow anything that catches your attention... Everybody in school says you're pretty into psychology, and far be it from me to discourage a future member of my profession."

She smiled, but there was something wistful in the expression. "Yeah, well, I'm not QUITE as into it as I used to be..."

"Because of Spectra?" He leaned back in his chair. "From what I hear, you may have been the only student she DIDN'T run roughshod over."

Jazz shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, well... I pretty much shoved Danny right into her trap. I thought I knew what was best for him..."

"And she was a respected, famous therapist, renowned for her work with troubled teenagers. Who better to help out a struggling fourteen-year-old?"

"Turns out, ANYONE." She shook her head sharply. "How could someone who actively tried to HURT people so badly get such a great reputation?"

He winced. "You want the platitudes and reassurances, or the cynical answer?"

"How about the truth?"

"Cynicism it is. From what I've heard about Ms. Spectra's time here... everyone was miserable, yeah, but they were QUIETLY miserable. Except Danny, none of the kids were acting out. They were just... grey. Agreed?"

"Yeah... Why?"

"Picture it. Penelope Spectra sweeps into a school full of kids acting like kids... with the accompanying misbehavior and troublemaking that entails. She leaves, and what's left? A bunch of grey, exhausted kids who hurt too bad to do anything but eat, sleep, and go to school. What are the grownups going to see?"

Jazz looked like she'd bitten into a lemon. "Good behavior."

"Exactly. Especially if the kids all figure that they feel the way they do because they deserve it... Which unfortunately, a skilled psychologist can do, assuming they have the ethics of a garden snake. They don't talk about how they feel, they don't cause trouble, and their parents and teachers all just assume there's nothing wrong."

"It didn't work that way here, though..."

Shaking his head, Cade leaned forward. "No, it didn't. Because this time, somebody realized something was wrong. Because you actually paid ATTENTION to your brother, instead of just assuming Spectra'd fix him. And to be honest... something obviously helped him, because he seems a lot better than the report indicated."

"He's a good kid," Jazz replied. "Not everybody sees that, but he really is... He just... keeps a lot in."

"Drives you crazy not being able to help him, doesn't it? Sitting on the sidelines can be a lot harder than actually being in the middle of the action."

Jazz opened her mouth, then hit him with a hard look. "Wait, what are you TALKING about?"

"Your brother's up to his eyeballs in something he won't talk about. To anybody, except his best friends, apparently. It's not criminal, or a police matter, so... I haven't dug too much. But I know enough about the condition to have some idea of how you're probably feeling. 'They also serve who stand and wait' is a pretty sentiment, but Milton didn't mention the ulcers you get from the stress."

Folding her arms across her chest, the girl leaned back against the wall, still regarding him intently. "You seem to know a lot about it."

"Well... " Absently, his fingers traced the hardwood frame of one of the photos on his desk. "I know a few things about secrets, that's all."


	6. Interlude 2: Open House

_Disclaimer- All hail Butch Hartman, the creator of DP! I'm broke, I do this for fun, I own no one but Cade! And speaking of... Taking this moment to state unequivocally that Cade is still a supporting character. He's not going to find out about Danny any time soon. He's not going to take the spotlight. That said, he DOES have a back story that may or may not become important here, and he IS going to be a bit...er... more active in this particular installment than normal... aw heck, you'll see what I mean. BTW, this particular piece occurs AFTER "Reign Storm." This is important._

Interlude 2

Open House

_Okay, and that is the final nail in the coffin of the "trouble at home" theory,_ Cade decided. It was Casper High's annual "Open House" night, when parents and school staff could meet in a less-formal setting than a parent-teacher conference. It was also generally the only time auxiliary faculty like himself got a chance to see just what type of homes the students he was used to came from.

The Fentons had been the first set of parents introduced to him, embarrassed children in tow. He could see why neither Jazz nor Danny particularly wanted to involve their parents in their troubles; Jack and Maddie Fenton were overprotective, overenthusiastic, and to be blunt, a bit obsessive. But if either of them had ever raised a hand to either of their kids, he'd eat his textbooks. Without salt.

So the only thing Danny had to fear from his parents was terminal embarrassment, which didn't exactly differentiate him from any other fourteen-year-old Cade had ever met. Similarly, the Foleys seemed to be rational, down-to-earth people, if a bit too normal to be believed.

The Mansons, on the other hand... Ozzie and Harriet would probably die from sugar shock. They were probably the same type of people who'd protested Dungeons and Dragons when he was in college, and for much the same reasons as they opposed their daughter's choices in music and clothing. Sam's unusually modest outfit was almost certainly a compromise... the style was outdated even in HIS eyes, but it was black. She caught him looking at her, and flashed him an exasperated eyeroll. Quickly he hid his grin behind the cup of punch in his hand.

Neither Tucker's parents nor Sam's showed any worry about their children, but he'd caught both Jack and Maddie Fenton giving their son concerned looks as the night went on. Obviously both of them had noticed SOMETHING, even if they didn't know specifics.

_And... yep, right on time. Am I good or what?_ Cade thought, seeing Maddie leave her husband chatting with one of the gym teachers to cross the distance between them. Setting his cup aside, he prepared himself for the conversation.

"Dr. Maboroshi... could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course, Mrs. Fenton... come on, I think there's a couple chairs over here. We'll probably need to sit down for this."

Once they were ensconced in the semi-private alcove, Maddie sighed, running one hand through her short hair. "Doctor... I'm sure you're not surprised, but... I wanted to talk to you about Danny. He's been acting so strange lately, and frankly, Jack and I are at our wits' end. We just don't know what to do."

Cade crossed his legs, leaning back slightly. "Well... I can't tell you too much, to be honest. Your son doesn't talk to many people, according to everything I've seen and heard, and I'm certainly not one of the ones he talks to. After the last school psychiatrist he saw, I can't say I blame him. Still... he's a good kid, that much is obvious. I don't think he's involved in anything criminal or dangerous."

_Only a half lie,_ he thought to himself, wincing slightly. _I'm SURE it's not criminal. Not so sure about the danger, but... With a sigh, he forced his attention back to the woman before him._

"It's just that he's NEVER acted this way before! He actually cut class a month ago to go to that... Gothic circus, his grades have plummeted, he's gotten into fights, he misses his curfew repeatedly, he never does his chores... And he just seems to pull further and further away every time we try to reach him!"

Cade frowned. "He's distracted a lot? Like he's thinking about something else?"

That got a nod. "Yes, exactly. I thought it might be a girl, but the only girl he's ever around is Sam, and... well, she's not immature enough to let him act like that."

"No," he said slowly, "I'd agree with you there. The fights aren't anything to worry about, they're just because he's not letting himself get pushed around anymore, and the school bullies aren't picking up on that quickly enough. As for the rest of it, I'm not sure what to tell you, except that pushing the question is only going to make him clam up further. He's afraid of something, but... I couldn't tell you what it is."

Just then, Jack's booming voice cut through the entire room.

"Hey, V-Man! What brings you here?"

Cade looked up to see the large ghost hunter enthusiastically greeting a smaller, slimmer man with white hair and an expensive suit. A quick glance at Maddie showed her wearing an unreadable expression.

"Well, Jack," the newcomer replied, brushing himself off after Jack's greeting, "This IS a community open house, and I thought it might be a good opportunity to see if I couldn't... mmm, contribute something to your children's education. After all... you're practically family."

_Okay, stop bristling. It's REALLY bad manners to snarl at somebody you haven't even met,_ Cade told himself, as he and Maddie both stood. He followed her across the room towards the white-haired man, hoping for an introduction. As he crossed the floor, he noticed Danny's thunderous expression. If looks could killed, the sharply-dressed stranger would be a smoking crater on the floor at that point.

"Ahh, Maddie," the smaller man smiled, kissing Maddie's hand as she approached. "You look as lovely as ever."

Her smile wavered slightly, then firmed. "And you're charming as ever, Vlad... Dr. Maboroshi, may I present Vlad Masters, a friend of the family? Vlad, this is Cade Maboroshi, the Casper High school counselor."

The two shook hands, but Cade was acutely aware of the older man's assessing gaze. In return, the psychiatrist made no attempt to hide his own scrutiny. _Smart. Powerful. And accustomed to getting what he wants. Why does none of that make me like him any better?_ Of course Cade had recognized the name. It would be hard NOT to have heard of Vlad Masters, the billionaire tech tycoon, a man who had a finger in every computerized pie from here to Japan. And this man was friends-- apparently very close friends-- with Jack and Maddie Fenton. And their son hated his guts. This was probably going to get very messy.

"A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Maboroshi," Masters said, releasing his grip. "But I was under the impression that Casper High had a different psychologist in residence?"

"Oh, you must mean Dr. Spectra... no, she left quite suddenly a few months ago. Apparently her abilities far outstripped her ethics, and she left rather than face professional censure. You could say I was called in for... damage control."

Masters' expression never changed from mild concern, but Cade had a feeling none of what he was saying was news to the man. Vlad was feeling him out, conducting a threat assessment on an unknown. Quickly, the psychiatrist stomped down on the feral smile he'd been told he wore in the sparring ring. He might know this was a duel, but it was better not to broadcast that knowledge to his opponent just yet.

"Well, it is comforting to know that our students are in such capable hands. Luckily, you weren't lured away by the more... prestigious career options that surely were available to you."

_Is he saying I'm not good enough to be anything but a high school counselor? Cheap shot._ Cade was feeling more and more justified in not liking this man.

"Well," he replied aloud, "kids need somebody who will actually pay attention to them, which not everyone in the psychiatric field does, even with the best of intentions. After all, teenagers are a lot smarter and more capable than a lot of people give them credit for."

_Oh, a flinch! That hit a nerve, and I'd bet it has to do with Danny... what the HECK is going on between a high school freshman and a business tycoon that justifies THAT kind of threat awareness?_

Masters smiled. "You are an insightful man, Dr. Maboroshi. I wonder, do you play chess? Aside from Jack, I so rarely find stimulating opponents for the game... Tactics are a component sadly lacking from most current educations."

This time, Cade didn't stop the smile he felt brewing. "Mr. Masters, I would be delighted to indulge you in a game. As a matter of fact... there's a game board in my office. If you'll grab one of the tables, I'll go get it right now."

The answering smile on the white-haired man's face was no less predatory. "I would be more than happy to." The two men parted ways, leaving Jack and Maddie blinking, expressions indicating they knew they'd missed something, they just weren't sure what.

Once seated, Masters took the black pieces, to Cade's lack of surprise, leaving his opponent to make the first move. Nudging one of the middle pawns forward, the younger man rested his chin on his fist, idly overlooking the board.

"So... Seriously, what brings somebody like you to a little school function in Amity Park?" Cade asked casually. "You don't have any kids of your own in school here."

"Sadly, no... my work has left me little time for social interaction," the other man replied, long fingers maneuvering a knight out to the front lines. "Jack, Maddie, and I have known each other since college, so if I can use my resources on behalf of their children..."

"Right, of course. Jazz certainly shows a lot of promise... I don't think half the students I went to school with had her level of insight, even in their twenties."

Masters blinked, thrown off-track ever so slightly. "Jazzmine? Yes, she really is an intelligent girl. Takes after her mother in that, certainly. I have no doubt she'll go far in whatever field she chooses."

_But you don't really care about her, do you?_ Cade mused, sliding his bishop out onto the board. _You've barely given her a thought. Which brings up the question of why an obvious predator like you is focusing on a hard target like Danny._

"And Danny really takes after his dad," he continued aloud. "Poor kid. We all turn into our parents, but fourteen's a bit early for it."

"I don't know," the businessman replied, the barest hint of irritation in his voice. "Daniel seems to be possessed of a bit more subtlety than his father ever possessed." Then he stopped, flashing a charming smile. "Jack is unfailingly honest and... immediate. One of his more appealing qualities, I think."

_Translation, you think he's a sucker. I got news for you, Masters, I think you've underestimated your 'best friend.'_ Outwardly, though, he just shrugged.

"Yeah, Danny's got a bit more finesse than his father, at least from what little I've seen of Jack. He's a good kid, even if he does have some problems... he's in my office a lot, actually."

"Well, I'm pleased to see that Daniel isn't allowing his stubbornness to get in the way of his mental health." Masters considered the board for a long moment, then slid his rook forward to capture Cade's bishop.

_You're not worried about what he might tell me. You KNOW what his secret is, and you're sure he won't reveal it. Or is it that you don't think I'll believe what he has to say?_ The man was arrogant, but surely not enough to believe himself untouchable, or to have missed Cade's poorly-veiled distaste for him. Which meant... he was giving himself a headache. One thing was certain, Danny's secret, whatever it was, WASN'T any of the usual things people tried to hide.

_Okay, time to shift gears here..._

"It's hard to be fourteen and not have any clue as to who you can trust. Even harder when somebody takes advantage of that and cuts you off from the people who should listen to you. When everybody believes your enemy over you." Casually, Cade slid his queen forward. "Check."

"Enemy?" Vlad said, all innocence as he moved his king aside.

"Sure. Popularity contests in school these days pretty much ARE a war, you know. Check."

A black bishop glided forward to take the queen. "So they tell me. It's not surprising that Daniel would be... somewhat resentful, is it?"

"Nope. But lucky for him... Some of us are smart enough to look beyond outward appearances and actually LISTEN." Feral grin in full force, Cade moved his rook to capture the bishop.

"And you should really pay less attention to the queen and more to the 'lesser pieces, Mr. Masters... I believe that's checkmate." Reaching out, Cade toppled the older man's king, then rose and headed back to the rest of the open house, leaving his opponent staring at the board in silence.


	7. Danny Phantom

Disclaimer- If you got this far, I'm not even gonna BOTHER... All kudos to NeutrinoBunny for one of the ideas in this bit! And I do make references to Danny Shadow...

Session 5: Danny Phantom

Age??

Thunk

"OW!"

One eyebrow raised, Cade looked up from his paperwork. That sounded... well, not particularly threatening, but it WASN'T something he expected to hear in the hall outside his office, especially at seven at night. Then again, he wasn't usually THERE at seven at night... but reports waited for no one, and the school brass got kind of tetchy if he was late.

"You know, it IS open," he called, setting his pen down. There was no reply for a moment, then the door swung inwards slowly, a white head peeking in.

"I'm... not interrupting anything, am I?" Amity Park's resident ghost hero asked nervously.

Cade looked down at the form in front of him, then tossed it over his shoulder. "Nothing that I haven't been looking for an excuse to avoid. Come on in and have a seat... Danny Phantom, right?"

The spirit nodded, shutting the door behind him. "That's me. Uh... just out of curiosity, why can't I phase through your door?"

"Take a look." The psychiatrist pointed, and Phantom twisted to follow the line of the man's finger. On the back of the door, in a frame, hung a sheet of rice paper, Japanese characters painted onto it.

"What is that?"

"Ofuda. Friend of mine knows a miko-- Shinto priestess-- and had it made up for me. Keeps spirits out of my office. Nice to know it works."

Phantom smiled. "Unless you invite them in, apparently."

"Well, that holds true for pretty much any type of defense against the supernatural. But I don't think you came to ask about my security... what's on your mind?"

"I... Well, Danny Fenton's kind of... a friend of mine. He said you were a good person to talk to... that you listen."

He what? Cade hadn't honestly thought Danny Fenton trusted him any farther than he could throw a tank... this was a shock, though not an unwelcome one.

"Well, that is my job. And I gotta admit... I'd think you could probably use someone to talk to, if everything I've heard is right."

The green-eyed ghost sighed, looking down at his hands. "You have no idea," he mumbled. Louder, he continued, "You were here when the city was invaded by all those ghosts... right?"

"Hiding under my bed like most of the city, yeah," Cade confirmed. That wasn't exactly true. He hadn't been under the bed, but he'd been smart enough not to leave his apartment. There was a line between bravery and stupidity, and his mother hadn't raised any stupid children.

"Well... See, the whole thing started because this one ghost... Plasmius... he stole a ring from a really strong ghost, Pariah Dark... Dark came here... I beat him, but it darn near kill-- er, destroyed me. And... In the end, it was all a setup. Plasmius has the Crown of Fire that was Pariah Dark's source of power, he has the experimental ecto-suit I wound up stealing from the Fentons, and he has the Fright Knight, Dark's main goon, working for him. I'm supposed to protect this town, and not only did I BLOW it, but I played right into Plasmius' hands!" Phantom's aura was flaring green, obviously in response to his anger.

Cade nodded as calmly as he could. "He played you. Danny... how old are you? I mean, how long have you been... in existence?" He had this hunch...

"Uh... About eight months, I think... it's kind of hazy back at the beginning... why?"

"And how old is this Plasmius?"

"Twenty YEARS," he replied bitterly. "Believe me, I know all about his experience and power, he shoves it down my throat every time we meet."

"And you're patterned off a fourteen year-old boy... right? I'm guessing you and Danny Fenton must be connected... that would explain all the questions he was asking me a while back about Multiple Personality. You don't know how to think tactically yet. But that's something you can learn, you know. In fact, that's the only way anybody gets any good at it, is to learn."

Sighing, the ghost boy folded his arms against his chest. "I just... He keeps outthinking me at every turn... anything I do, he's planned for it... and he keeps telling me I'm going to turn out like him. Turn INTO him. And I don't want to, I'd shove myself in a Fenton Thermos first, but... what if he's right? I keep finding things we have in common, and the angrier he makes me, the more I act like him and..."

Green eyes locked with dark ones, and Cade knew what the boy in front of him couldn't say. "And you're scared."

"Terrified," Phantom laughed bitterly. "And I'M the ghost..."

"'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.'" Cade quoted. "Friedrich Nietzsche. You're far from the first person to be afraid of something like this, Danny. But as long as you care about other people as much as you do... as long as the idea of being something like Plasmius scares you... you won't turn into him."

Danny nodded slowly. "I... guess that makes sense. Doesn't much help that he's always one step ahead of me, though."

"Well... I might have a solution for that, too." Reaching into a desk drawer, he pulled out a cardboard box. "Up for learning to play chess?"


	8. Dash Baxter

Disclaimer-- Butch, not me, yada yada. This one's going to raise a few eyebrows, probably, but hey, what's life if you don't poke a few freakishly large hornets' nests...

Session 6: Dash Baxter

Age 14

"You know, that little speech on what constitutes assault wasn't just because I like the sound of my own voice," Cade said levelly. He was, to be honest, a bit surprised to see the quarterback of the football team plopped in the visitor's chair, by a scowling Mr. Lancer, of all people. Despite his status as head of Casper High's bully squad, despite his often colorful threats, Dash wasn't usually one to go beyond mild shoving and humiliation. Cramming nerds into lockers, running occupied underwear up the flagpole, and the occasional "swirlie," yes, but nothing that ever left real damage or even a mark. Today, though... he'd pinned Danny Fenton up against a wall of lockers and hit him in the stomach, hard.

Fenton had panicked and nearly put Dash through the opposite wall. Fear and adrenaline did some impressive things, and Danny's leg muscles were apparently a lot better developed than the ones in his arms.

Something set him off, and hard, Cade mused, studying the defiant expression on the teen's face. He knows he's screwed up, though he's not used to getting nailed for it. After another moment's consideration, he asked the question foremost in his mind.

"Why do you always pick on Danny Fenton, anyway? According to what I've heard, you've been stuck to him like glue since you two entered high school."

"He's an easy target?" the blond replied, wryly. "He never fights back. Or he never DID..." Dash rubbed the back of his head, wincing.

"There are much easier targets in the school. You never pay Mike Gates much attention, after all... And he wouldn't booby-trap your locker with toilet paper to get back at you. Come on, Dash, I know you've got a better answer than that."

That got a scowl. "I... He's a freak! He can't even walk down the hall without tripping over something, his PANTS fall down in public, he hangs out with Vampira and the Nerd King, and have you seen the nuts he has for parents! They're all over him like he's the greatest thing since the automatic toaster, no matter HOW much of a screw-up he is, and mine ride me twenty-four/seven to 'carry on the family pride' and not 'let them down...'" He trailed off, realizing where the flow of words had carried him.

Ahh. Now we're getting somewhere.

Dash looked up, sudden terror in his blue eyes. "You're... not going to have me taken off the team... right?"

For once, Cade was caught flat-footed. "What? What makes you ask that?"

One broad shoulder twitched. "Ms. Spectra... my last meeting with her, she said she was recommending it. That I needed to start working on my skills for surviving in the 'real world,' since all I was good at was football..."

She... That... For a moment, Cade literally saw red. Only years of practice kept him from letting out the growl building in his throat. The last thing he wanted to do right now was scare the kid in the seat across from him. But if he ever, EVER caught up to Penelope Spectra, professional censure would be the least of her worries.

Breathe. In. Out. Calm. That old Aikido master you got dragged to in college would whap you upside the head with her cane if she saw you now. With some difficulty, Cade managed to reign in his temper.

"Taking you off the team's a major step, Dash," he said, as calmly as he could. "I don't know that we need to take that yet. Why don't you tell me what made you decide this was a good day to up the ante on Fenton? You don't normally get that rough."

Dash bit his lip. "I... I flunked a test. A MAJOR one. One of Lancer's. And he doesn't cut anybody slack. If my grades go down too far, I'll get kicked off the team, and..."

And football's who you are. Or... who your parents want you to be, anyway.

"According to this file, your grades go up during the off-season, when you're not practicing so hard... so what is it? No time to study?"

"Not ENOUGH time. It takes me forever to get this stuff through my head, and its not like I'm ever going to get anywhere with my brains anyway." The teen's words carried the ring of something repeated so often that it had melted into bitter acceptance.

Cade regarded him for a long moment. "Here." Pulling a folder from one of the holders behind his desk, he tossed it to Dash. The boy opened it, frowning in puzzlement.

"What is this?"

"You tell me," Cade replied easily.

Dash shrugged, looking back at the sheet of paper in front of him. "Looks kinda like a diagram for a football play... but it doesn't make any sense."

"Read it for me."

That got him a look that plainly said "humor the crazy man," but Dash shrugged, laying the folder down on the desk.

"Okay, you've got the X's, these guys, here coming up the middle, into this group of O's here... splitting them off, getting right through... meanwhile, more of the X team are sweeping around to the sides, hemming them in... looks like they're trying to keep 'em contained while this third group heads for the goal, back here... what IS this?"

"A diagram. From my Military Tactics class, last year of college. Marines clearing a room and rescuing a hostage. Nice work, Dash, you read it perfectly." Leaning back in his chair, Cade folded his hands across his chest, stomping the grin that threatened to break out at Dash's dumbfounded expression.

"Okay, we've established that you're not dumb. You're capable of learning and abstract thought. You may not be a genius, but you CAN be taught. Ever consider tutoring?"

"Once. It didn't work out too well."

A raised eyebrow. "Who was your tutor?"

"Jazz Fenton."

That got a chuckle. "Speaking guy to guy, Dash... how much attention were you paying to the actual subject matter?"

Dash grinned back, though weakly. "Point. So... what do I do?"

Cade pulled out a notepad and scribbled some numbers down on it. "Tutors. Professional ones. Male, and a good deal older than you, so you can actually concentrate. You probably won't make straight A's, but you should be able to hit passing if you work at it. And I'll see about swinging some extra credit assignments with Lancer. Contingent, you understand, on keeping your hands OFF the other students. I catch you playing Thomas Aquinas with the lockers again, and all bets are off. Got it?"

"... Thomas who? Nah, never mind, I got the point. I promise, no more Fenton-baiting. Or anyone else."

"Then get going," the psychiatrist ordered, handing him the sheet of paper. "You've got practice."

Dash threw him a quick salute before... well, dashing out the door. Cade shook his head sadly.

"'Thomas who?' Man... doesn't anybody READ anymore?"


	9. Interlude 3: Networking

_Disclaimer- Butch, not me, join in on the chorus, kids... Lita IS mine. Readers of other stories I've done might recognize her._

Interlude 3: Networking

"You know, I really appreciate you guys, and I know you want to take care of me," Cade drawled, settling the handset closer to his ear. "But did you guys really have to spam my inbox as soon as you heard where I was living?"

A throaty female chuckle echoed down the line. "It's not THAT bad, is it?"

"Lita, you sent a copy of Spenger and Stantz's Annotated Tobin' Spirit Guide, Maggie sent me the numbers of several good exorcists, and John emailed me what's practically a thesis on ghosts, spirits, and near-death experiences from some anthropologist he works with."

"I thought John was working with the Air Force."

Cade's response was dry. "He is."

His old friend laughed quietly. "Right, right. He didn't get away from the Wide World of Weird any more than the rest of us. So... speaking of weird, I hear you're seeing a ghost? On a professional basis, I mean."

"Danny Phantom." Cade let out a long breath. "Leets, I don't think he's actually a ghost, except in the most general definition of the term. Ectoplasmic entity, yeah, but I doubt he's actually the spirit of someone who died. He acts too... ALIVE for that. If he'd died, it would have to be recently, given his mannerisms and the fact that he talks like a modern-day kid. And if some kid had died around here that recently, people would know about it. Somebody would have recognized him. Nobody does."

"But you think he's human-based, rather than something that evolved independently on the spectral level. Like a familiar?"

Cade nodded, despite the fact that he knew she couldn't see it. "Yeah, I think so. My guess is he got thrown off by one of the kids here, Danny Fenton. It would explain the name, the physical similarity, the reason he was asking me about MPD a while back... you should read the report he did as a cover for the research. Reads like something out of your book, and he got some great extra credit on it."

"So Fenton knows?"

"I think so. All conjecture at this point, of course. The kid clams up tighter than safe under stress. He's used to keeping secrets, major ones. I'd guess he's a major part of Phantom's support system. He's got all the signs you mentioned-- jumpy, suspicious, doesn't look like he's sleeping well, cased my office like a veteran cop. Two good friends, almost totally socially isolated otherwise."

"Yeah, sounds like Superhero Syndrome to me. Has he stopped caring about ordinary problems?"

Cade snorted. "The other day, I heard him tell the bully who was shaking him down to hurry it up, he had 'other things to deal with.' Startled the guy so much he just kinda put the kid down and backed away."

"Makes sense. When your life is on the line repeatedly... little stuff doesn't scare you so much."

There was a moment of shared silence, both friends reflecting on the truth of that.

"So," Lita said finally, voice teasing, "Why'd you call? I know it wasn't just to hear the melodious sound of my voice..."

He rolled his eyes. "You're perceptive."

"I'm a shrink, it's my job."

"Yeah, well, fellow shrink, I need some help. You wrote a few reports on internal dichotomy and shadow-self conflict..."

Concern filled her voice. "Which one is this? Fenton or Phantom?"

"Phantom. Apparently he's got an evil counterpart... goes by the name of Plasmius. Got the Vader/Skywalker thing going on, on top of everything else. And Phantom's got enough of a dark side that it's a real concern on his part. Noble kid, scared out of his mind at what he could be, but..."

"Dragon/Paladin conflict. I'll mail you what I've got on the subject. Not something I envy you on, if he's based off a fourteen year-old. You barely know what you're capable of in any respect at that time. Realizing you can be as ruthless and destructive as the guys you fight is a real shock."

The sound of someone tapping at his office door made Cade look up from the call.

"Dang. Lita, I'll call you back, okay? Somebody's trying to get my attention."

"Duty calls for the high school counselor," she laughed. "Sure, call me back. I'll shoot you everything I've got about dichotomy splits. Be careful, Cade. We all know how you attract trouble."

"Pot. Kettle," he retorted, hanging up to the sound of her laughter. Sliding his cell phone back into his jacket pocket, he turned towards the door.

"It's open."

Black hair and wide blue eyes identified the knocker as Danny Fenton. One hand behind his head, the boy sheepishly entered the office, closing the door behind him.

"Uh... I'm not interrupting anything, right? I can come back..."

"Nah. Phone call to an old friend, but we talk all the time. It's my turn to run up the phone bill anyway. What can I do for you, Danny?"

The boy shrugged, setting his backpack down, but not taking the offered seat. "I was just wondering... the open house the other night. You... You don't like Vlad Masters, do you?"

Cade raised an eyebrow. That wasn't a question he'd been expecting. "No, can't say as I do," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Why not? Everybody else does." Danny's voice was bitter. "Everybody who meets him thinks he's just GREAT."

"Not surprising. He's charming, he's rich... your parents have known him a long time, that probably makes it hard for them to see his flaws. But... I read people for a living, Danny. I know slime when it oozes up to me."

"So... it's not just me?"

This time, Cade couldn't keep back a snort. "Not hardly. If your instincts are screaming at you that Vlad's dangerous, I'd listen to them. They usually know what they're talking about. I learned that a LONG time ago."

Danny gave him a long, unreadable look. "You didn't get into this job right out of college, did you? What were you doing in between?"

_Smart kid._ Cade grinned a little, feeling his respect for Danny Fenton go up another notch.

"My area of focus was actually in profiling," he replied easily. "Worked in law enforcement for a little while, 'til I realized it was either get out or burn out. So... here I am. Not a career move I regret."

Danny nodded absently. "So... Masters. What do you think of him, besides that he's slime?"

"Predator," Cade answered immediately. "Sociopath. Used to getting his way, and running roughshod over anyone who stands between him. Smart, but more to the point very, very sneaky. Manipulative. I'd bet he's studied psych at some point, if only for a better understanding of how to push buttons. And if he doesn't have a copy of Machiavelli's The Prince on his bookshelf at home, I'll eat my hat." He looked at the teen expectantly.

"You gonna tell me what the story is?"

Danny made a face, but sat in the chair in front of the desk. "It's kind of a long story, but to begin with... he's got a thing for my mom."

Cade groaned. "Oh, I KNOW this is not gonna end well..."


	10. Valerie

_Disclaimer: Butch, not me, yadda yadda. Commercial for TUE aired... Can't talk, squeeing. :-D Oh, and for the person who asked about Cade breaching professional ethics in the last bit, there's a bit of an explanation here..._

Session 7: Valerie Grey

Age: 14

Okay, this was getting to be a running gag. Cade looked up as the door to his office swung open just slightly, waiting for the inevitable "peek through the doorframe" bit. Sure enough, he wasn't disappointed, though he was a bit surprised to see the dark curly hair and green eyes of Valerie Grey.

"Can... I come in?" She asked shyly. "I don't have an appointment..."

"I take walk-ins," Cade replied genially. "Have a seat and tell me what's on your mind."

As Valerie sat, Cade couldn't help but notice her wince. Most of the school knew she'd gotten some fairly impressive internal injuries during the ghost siege of the city... nothing that required hospitalization, but he could see she was still recovering.

"Still tender, huh?"

"Docs say I bruised up my ribs pretty good, not to mention my spleen. I'm just lucky with the beating I got, I didn't rupture anything... My dad's freaked out enough about everything. If I were hospitalized, he'd really be hovering."

Cade nodded. He'd met Valerie's father... the man could definitely be overprotective, though raising a teenage girl alone was probably a good reason why. And finding out that same teenage daughter was running around with heavy weaponry, taking on things that made adults cringe... yeah, overprotective was probably an understatement.

"So, what's on your mind?"

She sighed, shifting slightly to get more comfortable in the chair. "Kinda confused right now... You mind if I use you as a sounding board? Danny says whatever gets said in here stays in here."

"Unless you specifically give me permission to discuss your case with a colleague, yes. And I'd only even ask if I think there's something you need that they can help with. If you just want to vent, bounce stuff off a listener, then you can be sure it's not going to get out of here."

"Okay, then... I figure you know about my side job? As a ghost hunter, I mean. When I got into it, everything seemed to make a lot of sense, but now... I don't know. Especially that one ghost... Danny Phantom he said his name was... He was the reason I got INTO this! He ruined my life, my dad's job... but then he wound up saving me from some goons, and we worked together during the Amity Park siege... and THEN he turns around and pulls my mask off right in front of my Dad! I just... I don't know what to think!"

"What were you doing when he pulled the mask off you?"

She winced. "Well... There was a big argument going on about who was gonna use the Fenton's new suit. They'd all kinda... taken each other out, so I went for it. Then my Dad came in, and then bam!"

Raising one eyebrow, Cade propped his chin on his hand. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that thing still sucking its wearer dry like a kindergartener with a juice box?"

"Yeah..."

"And... didn't you have some fairly impressive internal injuries at that point?"

That got a scowl. "You saying something?"

"Nope, not a thing." He bit his lip to stop the chuckle threatening. He very much doubted she'd appreciate the humor right now.

"Okay, fine, MAYBE I wasn't in shape to use the suit... but he still didn't have to ruin my cover like that! Maybe he's not evil, but he sure can be... ARROGANT!"

_Par for the fourteen-year-old course,_ Cade thought, wincing. _No time to think, so you just react... and jump right in feet first._

"But... I mean, he did save the city..." She sighed, putting her head in her hands. "I don't have this problem with most ghosts. They're bad. I catch them. And I'm good at it. My... um, benefactor even says so."

THAT had Cade sitting up straight, alarms blaring. "Benefactor? You mean whoever's supplying your gear?"

She nodded. "Uh huh. He made me promise not to mention his name... He likes his privacy. But he actually BELIEVES in me. He picked me, out of anybody he could have chosen!"

"Okay, clueless grownup moment here-- Somebody approached YOU, told you he wanted you to hunt ghosts for him, but not mention his name... and this didn't seem WEIRD to you in any way?"

"He knew how ghosts had wrecked my life! He wanted to help me make them pay!"

The psychiatrist shook his head. "Revenge is usually a bad reason to do anything, Val. It tends to make you blind to what's going on around you. Not to mention... if he knew about that, he was WATCHING you. That'd freak ME out." He shrugged. "But heck, maybe I was a cop too long. You do get kind of paranoid. And you didn't come here to hear me lecture, sorry."

To his surprise, her frown eased, then melted into a weary smile. "You know, I think this is the first time anybody's ever APOLOGIZED for lecturing me... You're okay, Dr. M. And... maybe you're right, about the revenge. That's not why I do it anymore, anyway... I do it because I can. And somebody has to. But... maybe I need to think a little more about some of the things I've been assuming." With some care, she levered herself out of the chair.

"Danny's right... you're easy to talk to. And I DO feel a little better. Can I come back sometime?"

Cade nodded. "Sure, my door is always open. But Val... piece of advice? Be careful about what you do and why. You don't want to end up playing somebody else's game for 'em."

"I know what I'm doing," she assured him, her tone carrying all of a teenager's confidence in her own abilities and immortality. "But... thanks." She dashed out the door in a flash of yellow.

He groaned. _This is getting more convoluted by the day... Maybe it's time I switched to espresso..._


	11. Closure

_Disclaimer- Butch, not me, yadda yadda. Well, this is the last of the shorts in "Outside Looking In." This does not mean I'm done with Cade-- far from it! Nor am I done with psychoanalyzing our characters... I'm just done with this format for now. But take heart, there will be more in the future!_

**Closure**

"Just out of curiosity," Cade drawled, "is any design of yours NOT based off an elephant gun?"

Snapping a casing shut, Jack Fenton grinned. "Hey, prototypes are built to accommodate MY size. If it's gonna blow up, I'm gonna be the one holding it. Maddie figures out how to shrink 'em down once we're sure I've got all the bugs out."

"Sounds like you two make a good team."

"Best decision I ever made was asking her to marry me," Jack said honestly, checking over a smaller ecto-gun. "I've got great ideas, but making 'em practical? That's her department. I'm just lucky she puts up with a schlub like me."

Cade chuckled, leaning casually against the bleachers. He let his gaze roam over the gymnasium, watching the banners going up, the football team setting up the stage, all the trappings of a Casper High Pep Rally beginning to come together. And after the events of the last few months, those trappings included Jack and Maddie Fenton standing guard, surprisingly unobtrusively, behind the bleachers. Or at least as unobtrusive as a few hundred pounds of ghost-hunting hardware could be.

The psychiatrist frowned to himself, hands in his jacket pockets. There'd been ghost sightings around the school for a few days-- nothing major, just in and out, some type of green, amorphous blob with red eyes. What was bothering him was the conversation he'd had with Danny Phantom, during last night's chess lesson.

"Bertrand," the ghost teen had spat, green glare hot enough to melt the plastic pieces. "I should have guessed, after what they did to the last pep rally."

"You want to translate for those of us who don't have a copy of Who's Who and What's That? Who's Bertrand?"

"He's Spectra's assistant. She... she's a ghost too. Feeds on the misery of teenagers to keep herself powerful and young. They nearly disintegrated my-- Jazz Fenton last time, planning to make everybody so miserable that they could just feed forever... I managed to stop them. Barely."

Finding out that Penelope Spectra was a ghost had explained a lot, in Cade's opinion. It had also made him that much more eager to face the witch. She was cruising for some serious payback.

"Hey... Jack." Much to his amusement, Cade had discovered that Jack Fenton wasn't particularly comfortable being called "Mr. Fenton" by anyone under twenty. Probably because he didn't identify himself as an adult the majority of the time anyway.

The older man looked up from the circuits he was inspecting. "Yeah?"

"How much recoil does one of those things have, anyway?"

"An ecto-gun? Not much, it's an ectoplasmic blast, not a protonic one. Doesn't require a focusing field, since it's a disruptor. Most of them are just too big for most people to carry. Why?"

"Mind if I borrow one of those? Cop instincts never go away, and mine are itching like crazy all of a sudden."

Jack's frown was surprisingly thoughtful, but it quickly cleared into his more usual good-humored expression. "Sure thing, Doc. They've all been field cleared."

Selecting one of the smaller models, Cade quickly familiarized himself with the gun's configuration. It wasn't TOO different from a standard firearm, which he appreciated. It meant he wouldn't have to worry about old habits interfering in the heat of the moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Cade could see Lancer giving him an odd look, but he ignored it. Profiler or not, he'd had enough training and street experience to know when to listen to the hairs on the back of his neck.

"You were a cop?" Jack asked casually, going back to his work.

"Police profiler, Las Vegas. Not long, but long enough to learn when to duck."

The big man cocked an eyebrow at him. "And... you decided to become a school psychologist WHY?"

"Children are our future?" Cade cracked. "Seriously, because someone has to. And a lot of school personnel are underqualified, undertrained, and overworked. Besides, my chances of getting shot are a bit lower here."

Jack acknowledged that point with a laugh, and the two of them settled down to watch the pep rally.

It wasn't long before Cade's paranoia proved justified. In the middle of the cheerleader's big routine, a dark wind swept through the gym, coalescing in the middle of the stage. The black cocoon fell away, revealing a sharply dressed woman with red, swept back hair and a glowing green cougar by her side.

"Hello, kids," Spectra cooed. "Remember me?"

From the screams, it was obvious they did. Green energy swept from the bleachers towards the ghost-woman in an eldritch spiral, as the screams quieted and changed to moans and scattered sobs. Even the teachers, while not affected as strongly, seemed paralyzed by the melancholy in the room.

Then, from the other side of the stage came the voice Cade had been expecting.

"Yeah, we remember you, SPECTRA," Danny Phantom spat, green aura flaring. "We remember you REAL well. And if you think you're gonna turn Casper High into another free buffet, you are WAY wrong!"

The red-haired woman affected a yawn. "Bertrand. Take him down."

"With pleasure," the cougar sneered, snippy voice at odds with its fierce appearance. The feline leaped at Phantom, and the two went down in a tumbling ball of green, black, and white.

Smirking, Spectra turned back to her captive audience. "Your so-called HERO is out of the picture now... no one's going to save you. No one's going to BOTHER! They don't care about you... you're nothing to anyone as long as you're not making trouble! Quiet little robots, that's all you are and that's all you'll ever be!"

With a growl, Cade checked his pockets, then raised his gun and stepped out of the shelter of the bleachers. He wasn't unaffected by Spectra's power, not by a long shot, but a man didn't go through years of psychology classes, plus the police equivalent of boot camp, without learning something about holding onto his own confidence and self-esteem. Especially when it had come as hard-won as his had.

"Hey... Do you mind? I've put a lot of work into these kids, cleaning up your mess," he called. "I'd hate to have to go through it all again."

Snarling, she whirled to face him, eyes glowing an inhuman red. "Who do you think you are?"

He sketched a mocking bow, never taking his eyes off her. "Cade Maboroshi, at your service... and I THINK I'm a heck of a lot better therapist than you'll ever be, Spectra. You've got all the subtlety of a brick to the head. The only reason nobody ever caught you before is because you ran away before they could put two and two together."

"How DARE you speak to me like that?" Rising into the air, she launched a ball of green fire at him. Diving behind a ball cart, he returned fire, never missing a beat.

"Because it's true! You don't have any skill! All you do is find one weak spot and keep hitting it until the kid crumbles! Anyone can do that! Heck, most of these kids can do it to each other! You ever hear Paulina in the lunchroom? She can reduce a girl to tears in three minutes flat, and she's not exactly Sigmund Freud."

Peeking over the cart, he was gratified to see Spectra's flame aura waver. Cliché though it might be, it was a fact; most people who fed off of other people's misery weren't too strong in their own self-image to begin with. It was just a lot more literal in Spectra's case.

"So you're a ghost!" He called, still shooting. "You're not special, there's thousands of you! You're not as strong as Skulker or as smart as Plasmius, or any of a HUNDRED other ghosts out there! Heck, you have to have your kitty-cat there handle all the muscle!" Silently, he made a note to thank Danny Phantom for the overview of his enemies list. It was coming in much more handy than he thought.

"The only thing that makes you special is something that teenage girls around the globe do as naturally as breathing. And for what? To look good? News flash, Penelope... I've seen prettier faces on English Bulldogs!"

That did it. Spectra let out a screech, not of rage, but pure anguish. In her moment of distraction, Cade's next shot managed to knock her completely out of the air. Dropping the gun, Cade dashed over to the stunned ghost, who was trying to push herself to her knees.

"Why don't you just take a nap, huh?" he puffed, pulling a piece of rice paper out of his pocket and slapping it on her back. Spectra let out a little keen, stiffened, and then fell bonelessly to the ground.

"GET OFF ME!" a teenage voice roared somewhere behind him, and Cade jumped slightly as a green, ghostly feline went soaring over his head to smack, dazed, into the cinderblock wall of the gym. Ectoplasm being a somewhat giving material, Bertrand actually stuck, then slid downwards in the manner of one of those toys you used to find in cheap kids' cereals.

Cade nodded approvingly, turning to see a scratched, bruised, and still steaming Danny Phantom approaching. "Nice. Very nice."

The ghost grinned. "Not bad yourself, Dr. M." Then he winced as the smile pulled at the skin of his face. "Ow. I wonder if they make Bactine for ghosts?"

"I dunno... but why don't you vacuum these two up before that ofuda I slapped on Spectra wears off? I'm not exactly an expert with those things."

"Right." Pulling the Fenton Thermos from its sling, Phantom quickly sucked both ghosts into the cylinder. "I'll just... uh, get rid of these two... the spell should be wearing off pretty fast... You gonna be okay?"

"Sure. Though I like this thing... gonna be kind of sad to give it back to Jack Fenton."

Phantom snorted. "Ask if you can keep it. Given how many blasters those two go through, he probably won't mind." Taking off, he disappeared through the ceiling.

Cade watched him go for a moment, then turned back to the recovering student body. He looked down at the ecto-gun, then grinned. "You know... maybe I will..."

Owari  
(End)


	12. Paulina

_Disclaimer: Butch Hartman owns Danny Phantom, I don't. Otherwise, I'd have paid off my credit card by now... I said it was over. I lied._

Session 8: Paulina Martinez

Age: 15

"You... um, wanted to see me?" The lilting voice was unusually hesitant, accent nearly hidden under an uncommon trepidation.

Cade set his pen aside, running one hand absently through close-cropped hair. "Yeah, Paulina, I did, thanks. Come in and have a seat, would you? There's something I think we need to discuss."

The dark-haired girl did as she was bid, closing the door behind her. Sitting delicately on the edge of the visitor's chair, she waited for him to begin.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly.

"Paulina... I think I owe you an apology."

He might as well have dropped a ton of bricks on her. The anxiety in the blue-green eyes turned to confusion mixed with a healthy dose of shock, and the girl's perfectly-shaped jaw dropped open in a very unladylike gape.

"A... what? Why?"

"The assembly the other day. I said a couple things about you while I was dealing with Spectra that I probably shouldn't have. Admittedly, I was trying to bait her into losing control, but... that doesn't excuse what I said. As school psychologist, I should have known better, and I apologize."

She stared at him for a long moment, confusion fading into something else he couldn't quite identify. Then she smiled, a small, wry expression that bore little resemblance to the ones she usually wore.

"You shouldn't apologize, Dr. Maboroshi," she said softly. "Mi abuela always says that truth doesn't need excuses made for it."

Cade's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"The stuff about me reducing people to tears in the lunchroom? It's true. I'm good at it... I always know just where to hit somebody to hurt the worst."

Okay, THIS, he hadn't expected. But far be it from him to pass up a professional opportunity. Lacing his fingers together, he propped his chin up on his hands.

"So... Why?"

"I don't know... it makes me feel good for a while, I guess... and I guess it's what the other girls want to hear... They laugh."

He shifted. "But you seem to be feeling bad about it now."

"I... I got attacked by a ghost a while ago. That weird one, with the grey hair, and the fireballs... and the ghost boy saved me... but then he called me shallow. And he told me... that the ghost that came after me... that I'd made it. By the things I said and did... I made people hate me... And Ms. Spectra kept saying that people only liked me because I was pretty and rich, and..." Her voice wobbled, and she stopped, obviously on the brink of tears.

"Hey... look at me." Cade deliberately pitched his voice low and gentle, stomping on the flare of ire inside him. He definitely should have asked Phantom for a few more minutes with the paralyzed Spectra...

"Spectra was a ghost. She fed off people's misery. Whatever she had to tell them to make them hurt, she'd say it. She'd do it. Her opinion's worth less than a pair of Gucci shoes after a fire sale." That got the hoped-for reaction, a tremulous smile.

"As for the ghost boy... Well, he wasn't exactly himself at the time. I can't say more than that, but trust me, he wouldn't have said those things to you normally."

She sniffled. "Do you think I'm shallow?"

Head tilted to one side, he studied her. "No. I think you're a scared girl who's developed some rather unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with your life right now. Yeah, you ARE self-absorbed, but you're a teenager, it comes with the territory. You might want to be careful about who you put down and what you say in the future, because it CAN come back to haunt you. But I wouldn't start calling you Spectra Junior just yet."

"Good... because that hairstyle of hers is completely horrendous," the girl replied, making a face. He laughed.

"I don't think you have to worry too much about losing your friends by easing back on what you say. Most of them are pretty self-absorbed too. They won't care. Though you might want to look into finding some new friends, too... one who like YOU, not just the popularity circles you run in..."

"Yeah... maybe. Is there anything else? Because I have cheerleading practice after school, and the coach will spaz if I'm late. Although it's not like she has any room to talk..."

Cade hung his head as he wrote out the pass. Oh well... Rome wasn't built in a day, after all...


	13. Interlude 4: Game of Light and Shadows

_Disclaimer- Butch, not me, yadda... No, I don't know why these keep going..._

Interlude 4: Game of Light and Shadows

_... Oh, for the love of the eight million kami. _Grumbling, Cade shut off the tv, rising from the couch as he did so. The apartment was still and silent, save for the almost subsonic humming that indicated that something had triggered the wards. And, he hoped, gotten a nasty surprise for its efforts. With the tv off, the room was lit only by the beams of the full moon shining in from outside... and the slightly reddish radiance leaking in from somewhere on his balcony.

_Ghost-- check,_ he grumped, retrieving the ecto-blaster Jack Fenton had given him. _Powerful one too, if I'm remembering Phantom's rundown correctly._

Red, the boy spirit had told him, was the color of a fixated ghost, one whose anchoring obsession was so strong as to give it a toehold on the physical world. Usually they were malevolent, since it required a great deal of rage and hate to sustain an obsession like that. Vengeance was a very typical motivation. Vengeance and bloodlust.

_And you're going out there, aren't you?_ the little voice in the back of his head asked sardonically. _Were you born stupid, or did the Academy training thump out your brains?_

_I don't have to deal with this from my own subconscious,_ he replied sharply, crossing to the sliding doors that lead out onto the balcony. _Now shut up and let me concentrate._

The voice subsided, and Cade eased the door open, gun leading the way at all times. No sooner had the barrel poked out into the night than a cultured voice floated to him from the other end of the veranda.

"It's quite all right, Doctor, I mean you no harm. I simply dropped by for a little chat."

_Uh huh._ Cade snorted, but he stepped out onto the concrete, blaster still held ready. The ghost seated at his patio table was... well, frankly, it looked like a vampire from an old Hammer B-movie. Corpse-pale skin, red eyes, a cape... and black hair swept up into a pair of points that were disconcertingly like the horns of the devil. And there was something about that face... the shape of the bones, the set of the jaw... he'd seen it before. Recently.

A glimmer of light caught his eye, and he looked closer at the table. Set up on the aluminum surface was a chessboard, the pieces made of crystal and obsidian, sparkling coldly in the light of the full moon. The board was set up with the clear pieces facing his direction, the black beneath his opponent's hands. With a click, the pieces fell into place.

"Vlad Plasmius, I presume?" Cade drawled, tucking the ecto gun into the waist of his jeans. Danny Phantom's arch enemy probably wasn't there to fight, or there'd have been an attack already.

_That doesn't, however,_ he thought with grim humor, _mean I trust him as far as I could throw a Howitzer._

"Excellent deduction, Dr. Maboroshi. But then, deductive reasoning has always been one of your strong points, hasn't it? The Las Vegas police department lost a fine asset when you left."

"You can do research. I'm impressed," the psychiatrist snorted, taking the empty chair. "Of course you realize, this could be considered a conflict of interest."

Plasmius dismissed that with a wave of one gloved hand. "Nonsense. We're simply two men having a conversation over a chessboard. If it makes you feel any better, you're more than welcome to tell young Daniel whatever you wish about our discussion."

"I'll take you up on that," Cade said blandly, moving his first pawn. The crystal felt oddly cold under his fingers, despite the warmth of the night. "Kid's got enough trust issues as it is... Something I'm sure you've worked hard on."

"It's nice to have one's skill acknowledged," the ghost replied, countering with a knight. "Artists are so rarely truly appreciated."

Another snort. "Artist. Right. Answer me one thing though, on the level-- did you send Spectra?"

The aristocratic features hardened. "No. The woman has no intelligence, no finesse... she simply breaks things. I've no use for someone like her."

"Good." For a moment, pieces moved in surprisingly comfortable silence.

"You seem to have allied yourself quite strongly with Amity Park's spectral defender," Plasmius commented at last. "What happened to professional distance?"

"Doesn't apply when somebody hurts a kid. Especially someone who thinks their power and position makes them untouchable." Watching an obsidian bishop glide across the board, Cade was struck with a feeling of déjà vu.

Red eyes turned upward in amusement. "And if I said I didn't want to hurt him?"

The human stared levelly at his opponent for a moment. "I'd believe it... but it doesn't change the fact you would. You're obsessed, Plasmius, that much is obvious. I don't know why, or exactly with what, though I know it revolves around Danny. But it's pretty obvious that whatever it is, he doesn't want any part of it."

"Do children ever truly know what they want?"

"He's not a child. You've seen to that yourself." Light dawned "That's what you want, isn't it? You're not trying to BREAK him... you want him stronger. Which is why you haven't killed him when you had the chance. He's more powerful than you, isn't he? And if you can own him, great, if not... well, you can still do what you did with Pariah Dark. Wind him up, push the buttons, and let him go. Because he can take out enemies you can't even touch."

The ghost's smile widened, grew mocking. "Bravo, doctor, MOST impressive. I really shouldn't underestimate you."

"Somehow, I doubt you ever did," Cade replied, teeth gritted. _Down boy,_ he told himself. _Throttling a ghost is an exercise in futility anyway._

Suddenly he smiled. "Oh, and by the way... that's checkmate. You really shouldn't have been so eager to take my queen..."

The expression that crossed Plasmius's face was unreadable. Then he smirked, knocked over his king, and disappeared in a puff of bright red smoke.

For a long moment, Cade stared at the board, bits and pieces running through his head.

_'And you should really pay less attention to the queen...'_

_'Young Daniel...'_

High cheekbones. Patronizing smile. Manipulative, obsessive, sociopathic.

Vlad Masters.

Vlad Plasmius.

Two Vlads, two Danny's... and the disturbing feeling that he was _still missing something..._

Somehow, he just KNEW that somebody up there was laughing at him.


	14. Basic Math

**Basic Math**

_Disclaimer- Butch Hartman, not me, repeat ad nauseam. Come on, you got this far, you KNOW the drill..._

Contrary to popular myth, Cade mused, peace and quiet was not, for most people, really conducive to deep thinking. Years of school and personal experience had taught him that if you really wanted to THINK about something, you needed a distraction. Something that used little to none of your higher functions, but managed to keep all the lower ones from bothering you. Some people knitted, others fixed toasters. He went to the gym.

Not that he didn't work out on a regular basis anyway. In college, he'd taken a couple of Aikido lessons, mainly on Lita's insistence, then found himself drifting more or less permanently into kickboxing on his own. After that, his stint with the Vegas PD had kept him in the habit, and life in Amity Park was a good incentive not to drift out of it.

But in cases like that, his regular routine generally involved sparring, running, and a set of isometrics. Occasions for deep thought were entirely different. Then it was time for the weights.

Settling into the slow rhythm of the weight machines, Cade let his mind wander to the mess currently preoccupying his time. Specifically, the situation involving two ghosts and two humans, sharing two names between them. He was missing something. He knew that much. Something obvious, some piece of the puzzle that would make all the tangled threads settle into one coherent whole. The problem was, he didn't have a CLUE what it was.

_Okay, breathe. Focus. Let's go back to the beginning on this one._ As his mind cleared, Cade found himself remembering a conversation from several years ago, back when he was still working with the Las Vegas Police. It had been late, and stormy, and one of the criminalists had been in an unusually talkative mood.

"Profiling's not that far off from being a CSI," he'd said. "You have to forget your assumptions and build a structure based solely on the evidence. People can be wrong. Assumptions, even the most basic, can be wrong. Evidence never lies."

_All right... evidence. Start from the beginning. _

Fact: Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton shared a name, several mannerisms, and an undeniable similarity of appearance. Height, body conformation, and facial structure appeared to be identical, with coloring the only major visual difference between the two. And the uniform that the ghostly teen wore was nearly identical in style to the jumpsuits worn by Jack and Maddie Fenton.

Fact: Vlad Masters and Vlad Plasmius also shared a name, mannerisms, and a similarity of appearance, though not such a close one as Phantom and Fenton.

Fact: Both Danny Fenton and Vlad Masters bore the common empirical indicators of high-level long-term PKE exposure, such as higher than normal sensitivity to external stimuli and hints of a possible "sixth sense."

Fact: Vlad Plasmius had a strong, but poorly-defined obsession with Danny Phantom, appearing paternal and possessive by turns. Vlad Masters had a strong, well-defined obsession with possessing Maddie Fenton in a quasi-romantic sense.

Motions slowing, Cade frowned, allowing the machine to settle the weight brick back onto its stack. Something was odd there... In everything else, Masters and Plasmius seemed to echo each other... why were their obsessions different.

_Unless... They're NOT different. _A few questions to Jack and Maddie had revealed that Plasmius WAS interested in the Fenton family, for reasons that had not yet been explained. According to Jack, the ghost had attempted to abduct Maddie on one occasion, and had nearly stolen the Fenton Portal on another, nearly killing the whole family in the process. And Masters...

The white-haired man WASN'T just obsessed with Maddie, despite what Danny Fenton had said or implied. Cade's casual comparison of Danny to Jack during the open house had drawn too swift and defensive a reaction from Vlad. If the man had seen Danny simply as an obstacle to gaining Maddie, he wouldn't have cared if Danny was painted in a less-flattering light.

_Parental and possessive by turns,_ Cade mused, moving to the next machine. _Like a man with a rival who might become his son._ It was obvious that despite his arrogance, Vlad had a respect for Danny that he didn't hold for many others, adult or not.

_He thinks Danny can stop him, even while he's confident that Danny won't tell anyone of his interest in Maddie... or at least that no one will believe it._ The question was, why? Danny was a smart, tough, ruthless kid... but he WAS still a kid. How could he keep Vlad away from Maddie without the only weapon a kid had-- the truth?

Okay, drifting into speculation here... it was time to move back to the evidence. Fact; Danny Fenton, unlike his two closest friends, had the reflex set of somebody used to sudden and intense danger. He kept his back to the wall when possible, especially in the lunchroom. Upon entering any situation, he scanned for threats, weapons, and exits in that order. New people received a quick scan and evaluation; and it was obvious that Casper High's jocks received a verdict of "not worth worrying about." But Danny's home environment was extremely safe, so that was certainly not the source of the behaviors.

Fact: Danny seemed to be nursing minor injuries on a semi-regular basis, injuries not consistent with the type of bullying favored by Casper High's popular teens. In addition, Danny seemed to have trouble remaining awake during the school day, a fact that had previously annoyed and now was beginning to worry Mr. Lancer.

Fact: According to the Amity Park PD, teenagers matching the descriptions of Sam and Tucker had both been sighted with Amity Park's resident ghost hero, assisting him in his work. Danny Fenton... had not. In fact, there was only one case Cade could remember in which the two were ever seen in different places at the same time... and he KNEW Phantom had been having a case of multiple personality at the time.

Stopping, the psychiatrist stared at his reflection in the mirror. Could it really be that simple? Of the three teens, it was obvious Danny was the most tied into the entire mess. He should have been seen MORE often, rather than less. And it fit with the appearance of the Shadow earlier in the year. Danny Phantom's hair was white, his eyes green. Danny Shadow had grey hair and red eyes. From what he'd learned about how the appearance of a ghost was determined, and the various types of ectoplasm-- that would almost REQUIRE the presence of a third Danny... one with black hair and blue eyes. Danny Fenton.

Cade sighed. So he had a theory, based on the evidence... now he just needed to figure out what to DO with it. Somehow, he had a feeling that was going to be the hard part...


	15. Talking Turkey

_Disclaimer- Butch Hartman owns him, I don't, if I did, the credit card company would not be chewing my butt. This fanfic is rated G by the Motion Picture Association of America. Okay, kids, this really IS the last one in this story. I mean it. Really. Finito. Any further appearances by Cade will be in different stories. And I promise, there WILL be further appearances by Cade. He's just too useful not to keep around!  
_

**Talking Turkey**

"Um... Fenton said you wanted to see me?" Danny Phantom ventured, letting the office door close behind him. Cade sighed.

"Yeah, we really have to talk. Have a seat... this might take a while, and you're not going to like it."

The young ghost sighed, dropping into the visitor's chair with a look of resignation. Cade had a feeling he'd gotten very used to hearing news he didn't like over the past year.

Weary green eyes met his, as the white-haired teen propped his head on one fist. "Okay, lay it on me... what's rotten in the state of Amity Park NOW?"

"You've been spending too much time in Lancer's class recently," the psychiatrist snorted, leaning back in his chair. The boy didn't deny it, which was another mark in favor of his current theory. Propping his feet on the desk, Cade let out a gusty breath.

"I had a visit the other night, at my apartment. Apparently Plasmius decided to drop in for a chat over a nice, civil game of chess. And mainly, we talked about you."

Phantom swallowed. "M...me?" His voice cracked, and he winced.

"Yes. I didn't tell him anything he hadn't already proved he knew. Pretty much it was an opening gambit, a salvo meant to take my measure... but it did let a few things slip, things I don't think he wanted him to know."

That seemed to calm his patient a bit, though the arched eyebrow was plainly skeptical. "Plasmius? He doesn't MAKE mistakes."

Cade's smile was feral. "Yeah, he does. They're little ones, and he's very good at recovering from them and making it look like his plan all along... but he does make them. I think he was counting on the fact that you don't talk to people much, especially about what scares you. Even Sam and Tucker don't know some of what you've told me, I'm sure. And I wouldn't have seen the slip he made if I hadn't had information from a lot of different sources... quite a few he doesn't know about."

"Okay, you're tap-dancing around something here... care to share?"

"Sorry. Theatrical streak. I don't have a Watson to expound to, so you're just gonna have to sit through it." At Danny's amused snort, he continued.

"At first, I figured you were a familiar, an ectoplasmic spin-off created by a human with a lot of emotion and a high PKE charge, in this case, Danny Fenton. It seemed to answer most of the questions that rose up, at least in the beginning. Then came the open house, and I met Vlad Masters, and that opened up a whole NEW can of worms. Danny Fenton obviously hated Masters, and was more than a little afraid of him to boot. Masters, on the other hand, while being wary of Danny, didn't seem to fear exposure in the slightest. At first, I was thinking several abuse scenarios, but Jack and Maddie aren't that blind, and Danny's not broken enough to accept that, even if he does take it at school. So when he told me about Vlad's obsession with Maddie; that explained a few things... but raised some other questions, like why you'd mentioned being split into THREE bits during that Shadow mess, when I only knew about two. Once I got a good look at Plasmius, I had a hunch... but it was the chess game that made it fall into place. He wasn't concentrating on the board too hard, and he fell back on routine moves. I did too. As a result... I played the exact same chess game with Vlad Plasmius as I did with Vlad Masters, the night of the open house. Add in the physical similarity, your closeness with Sam and Tucker, access to Fentonworks technology, and the bruises and fighter's reflexes I've seen on Danny Fenton... And I got it. Three sides of one personality, three Dannys. Shadow, Phantom... and Fenton."

Phantom stared at him for a long moment, completely silent. Then he seemed to deflate, as two rings of light formed around his midsection and slid apart, transforming him back into black-haired, blue-eyed Danny Fenton.

"So... now what?"

"Well, first, I'm assuming Vlad Plasmius and Vlad Masters are also the same person? Using the term 'person' loosely, of course...

That got a half-smile from the boy. "Yeah. We're... the ghosts call us halfas-- Well, that's the only printable thing they call me. Half-ghost, half-human. We both had accidents with my dad's ghost portal experiments. His was twenty years ago in college. Mine was one year ago, with the new, big portal in the basement. The one that works. It... Well, I don't know what it did, I'm only a C-student. But I have ghost powers, the ability to turn into a ghost, and a few abilities even ghosts don't seem to have. And I guess because we're the only two in existence, Vlad thinks I should be his... apprentice or something."

Cade nodded. "I'm guessing the portal twenty years ago was a lot smaller?"

"Yeah. Only about three feet square, I think. Vlad got blasted in the face, and wound up hospitalized. Why?"

"Because you're stronger than he is, Danny. Or at least you have the potential to be. He's got more experience, more finesse, and more resources, but you're stronger. That's why the whole mess with Pariah Dark. He used Valerie to motivate you, so that you'd take Dark out. He couldn't have done it. Even with the suit, he couldn't have done it. He wouldn't have been strong enough to power it all the way. Which, on the bright side, means it's not to his advantage to kill you. Or let anyone else do it. Because even if he doesn't own you, doesn't make you his son and apprentice, he can still make sure you take out any threats he can't handle. Or he thinks he can, anyway... I think we may be able to change that."

The grin on Danny's face was nearly as feral as the one Cade had worn earlier. "Dr. M... this may be the beginning of a BEAUTIFUL friendship."


End file.
